


Silk

by Zai42



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kneeling, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 07:05:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15019289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: Jon has a nightmare.





	Silk

Jon woke up with blurred vision and Georgie standing over him, the faint line of a frown between her brows. "Nightmares?" she asked, stroking her thumb in small circles over his shoulder.

  
Jon let out a shaky breath. "Yes." He sat up, cast in the glow from Georgie's computer screen, resting his head against her hip as he caught his breath. She rubbed his back, her hand warm and solid, and after a moment Jon murmured, "Could you...?"

  
"Yeah." She helped him to his feet. "I'm gonna be up editing for a while anyway, maybe working on a new script. How do you want to do this?" She waited until he was steady, then left his side to rummage through her closet, standing on tiptoe to tug a box down from the top shelf. "Wanna pick everything out yourself?"

  
Jon peered into the box, muttered something about Georgie's organizational skills, and smiled weakly as she made a face at him. He was methodical, as he always was, carefully extracting and detangling the lengths of silk rope, laying them out on the bed for her. He held up a gag and a heavy blindfold, reconsidered the gag and replaced it, and offered Georgie the blindfold.

  
"This first?"

  
"Please."

  
Georgie smoothed his hair out of his face before she fixed the blindfold over his eyes. Even in the darkened room, the effect was instantaneous; Jon let out a long breath, the tension leaving his shoulders. Georgie slipped a finger between the fabric and his temple. "Good?"

  
"Yes. Thank you."

  
Georgie hummed; Jon could hear her rummaging on the bed for rope. If he tried, he would be able to see her, the way her dark hair caught the scant light, the way her fingers danced along the lengths of rope as she gathered them up. He didn't try.

  
"C'mon." She led him gently over to her desk, eased him down into a kneeling position. She remained standing, for now. "How do you want your hands?"

  
"Behind me, please."

  
He sighed softly in something like relief as she wound the rope around his wrists. It was--grounding. He was here, in the real world, with Georgie carefully binding his hands together. Not off with his nightmares.

  
She checked the give of the rope and circled him, looping rope over his shoulders and across his chest, not so tight to hurt, just enough that their presence could not be ignored.

  
"Legs too?"

  
"Yes. If that's okay."

  
"'Course."

  
That required a bit of shifting, but they had done this often enough. Soon his ankles were bound together, his legs forced into a kneeling position, comforting junctions of pressure crisscrossing his entire body. He felt Georgie settle herself in her chair and shifted shyly towards her; her hand cradled the back of his neck and eased his head into her lap, her fingers scratching sweetly through the hair on the back of his neck.

  
"Wanna talk about it?"

  
Jon hesitated, nuzzling into her lap. The nightmare felt so distant now, even though his eyes still stung from crying. "Not right now," he said.

  
She patted his head. "Okay."

  
Jon knelt quietly at her side, listening to her typing, smiling vaguely when she would mutter to herself. Every now and then she would ask for his opinion on something and he would answer, his voice low and subdued, but mostly they were silent. Sometimes she would stop typing and stroke his hair.

  
It was one of these moments, with Georgie's thumb stroking back and forth beneath his ear, that Jon finally muttered, "You were dying."

  
She paused. "It wasn't real, Jon." She cupped the back of his neck, holding him more firmly, a solid point of contact, holding him in place.

  
Even behind the blindfold, images arose unbidden, and his heart began to hammer in his chest at the memory of it. "I just watched. I--I didn't--help you, I just--"

  
"Hey." Her fingers tightened in his hair, just enough to cut him off, to force him to hold still and silent. "I'm okay. I'm here. It wasn't real." She traced the line where the blindfold met his skin, then dipped lower to touch the ropes over his shoulders. He still had a shirt on beneath them, but the heat of her hand seeped through it, and Jon sighed, panic leeching out of him as she pet him. "You wouldn't do that," she added in a whisper, and Jon nuzzled up into her palm, his lips moving just slightly against her skin.

  
They lapsed once more into silence, though Jon got the impression Georgie had stopped doing any actual work and had moved onto browsing Tumblr, judging by how little typing or mumbled cursing he heard.

  
He must have dozed, because Georgie had to shake him in order to stand. "Hey," she said. "I'm going to bed. Are you ready?"

  
Jon nodded, bowing his head so she could undo the knot of the blindfold. He kept his eyes closed as she started untying the ropes. "Do you...want...anything?" he asked.

  
"No," she said, massaging his wrists. (She always said no. He always asked anyway.) She dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head. "You feel better? You'll be able to sleep okay?"

  
"I think so. Thank you."

  
"Mmhm." She helped him stand and deposited him onto the bed, shoving away the ropes and blindfold haphazardly and kicking the box under the bed. "I'll get it in the morning," she said defensively, catching the half-hearted reproach in the one eye Jon had slit open to stare at her. She climbed into the bed next to him and tugged him close. "Fussy," she mumbled into his hair.

  
Jon hummed at her, his eyes fluttering closed. "Thanks," he mumbled again, curling an arm over her chest.

  
She entwined their fingers, turning her head to press a kiss to the back of his hand. "Any time."

**Author's Note:**

> "Don't you have other things to be doing?" you ask, to which I reply, 
> 
> "Hey. Shut up."


End file.
